Two Mages, a Priest and a Kensai Walk into a Bar
by AlphaMonkey
Summary: Alcohol. Artillery. Random immolation. Fun for the whole family!
1. Chapter 1

"Ok, stop me if you've heard this one before. Two mages, a priest of Helm, and a swordswoman walk into a bar…"

"Immy."

"Oh, fine. But I'm telling you, it's a classic…"

The four travelers, exhausted and covered in dust from a long, tiring day on the road, pushed their way through the door into the cacophonous din of the Copper Coronet, easily the rowdiest, most raucous bar in all of Athkatla – which was saying something, for the City of Coin certainly had its share of loud and unruly drinking establishments.

The leader of the group, a brunette with a pair of swords strapped to her back, led the way over to the counter at one end of the Coronet's main room, dodging stumbling patrons and harried waitresses as she made the treacherous crossing. She threw an elbow across the heavy wooden counter once she'd reached it and leaned forward, slapping a few coins onto the surface and nudging them forward. "Long time no see, Bernard. The usual, if you wouldn't mind."

The portly barkeep looked up at the woman's slim hand, then at her smiling face, which, though it had been years since he'd seen it last, looked much the same as it always had. He grinned back at her. "The usual it is. What's it been? Nine years? Ten, since you last been down this way?"

"Ten," she said with a nod. "Would've been longer. We were supposed to be off to Sembia, but Nalia got a letter saying we needed to put that on hold and come here instead. Something about everyone around these parts thinking we were dead."

Bernard scoffed. "Aye. Heard some talk about that. No one with any brains believes it, o'course. After all you and the rest been through, a body'd have to be some kinda fool to assume the worst had happened to ye."

"Well, Amn's never had any shortage of fools."

Bernard snickered at the joke, but sobered almost immediately. "Too right. You weeded a bunch out when you were here last, but you been gone a whiles. They grew back. S'pose it's time to be showin' some folk the error of their thinkin' an' all that, eh?"

The woman shrugged then winked. "Something like that." She pushed over a few more coins and then jerked a thumb towards the rest of her companions. They'd gotten themselves a table nearby. It hadn't been hard. At the sight of their weapons and armor – especially the Helmite geared in full, shining battle-plate – the Coronet's patrons had seen more than fit to give the group a wide berth. "The usual for them, too, all right?" she said, gesturing towards the coins she'd just nudged across.

"Of course, lass."

* * *

><p>"What do you mean 'we're dead?' I think the fact that I'm sitting here talking to the rest of you, drinking a mug of Bernard's ale – which is a lot more watered down than I remember it being, by the way – is a pretty strong testament to the fact that I'm still alive… i.e. not dead."<p>

"I didn't mean physically dead, Enara. It's just… we've been gone so long, that the Athkatlan ruling council declared us… well… dead in absentia. They just figured we weren't ever coming back."

"They can -do- that?"

"Well, what did you expect? We all just packed up one day, left no instructions, and walked away from everything we had here in Amn."

"It is not as if we severed all ties. The Order knew where we were going. We had their blessing."

"I just mean that we… well, we left a lot of loose ends behind. Like my family's keep, for example."

"Except that's just it, Nals. Your father's advisor-guy was supposed to be taking care of all that."

"And he was, Imoen, until… well, until he died. And -when- he died, there was no one left to steward the lands in our absence, so of course the Roenalls figured they could make a grab for everything."

"Even with Isaea swinging from the gallows?"

"Especially with him gone. They were willing to play nice before, but after we exposed him for the sniveling, underhanded little bastard he was, there was no way they were going to pull any punches after that. No, with us out of the way, they made a play for the lands, and I'll be damned if I'm going to let that pack of lowborn jackals have them."

"She's gotten crotchety in her old age, hasn't she?"

"Imoen."

"What, I'm just saying, you never used to be this cranky. Would you like us to get you a cup of tea? Maybe a little lie down?"

"Enara?"

"Hmm?"

"I can't reach. Smack her for me, would you?"

"Gladly."

The brunette reached out and thumped her younger sister solidly on the back of the head, causing her to dribble a tiny bit of ale out of the corner of her mouth.

"Ow!" She glared daggers at her sibling then polled the rest of the table for some sympathy but found only smug grins staring back at her. "Hate you guys."

Enara sighed. "You know, just when I thought we'd managed to solve all these messes with feuding families and political intrigue and all that crap, they pull us back in."

"It is the way of Amn, my love," the Helmite replied with a sigh of his own. He stroked his beard – a habit whenever he was upset. "The 'nobles' of this place are far too quick to turn against each other when they detect even the slightest hint of weakness. Thankfully, the possessions we left with the Order for safekeeping are still intact, but I am afraid that precious little else remains. Most of what we had here in Amn has been seized."

"Anomen. Dear. I know this is where you grew up, so, no offense or anything, but this place sucks."

He chuckled. "None taken."

"Oh, come on, Nar, it's not so bad. It's just like old times. Well, except for the torture and all."

"Imoen, I continue to be astounded by your ability to remain chipper in the face of… everything."

"It's a gift, Nalia."

"Regardless, I'm going to go down to the Council Hall and see about being declared un-dead."

"Won't that make us flesh-eating zombies?"

Anomen rolled his eyes, sighed, and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Helm preserve us. All right, then. While the Lady de'Arnisse speaks to the Council about our situation, I believe I shall meet with the First Watcher and see what he has to say about the matter. I can only hope he has some insight."

"And if not?"

"One bridge at a time, Enara. One bridge at a time."

"That's all well and good, but what are Immy and I supposed to do while the two of you are hobnobbing with all the muckymucks?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Mucky… mucks?"

Nalia quickly and gracefully hid a snicker behind her hand, then looked up, once again the stern, proper noblewoman. "Perhaps it's best if the both of you just… stay here. I'm a bit leery about turning the two of you loose, unsupervised, upon an unsuspecting Athkatla."

"I see no need for such harsh measures. I'm quite certain Enara will ensure that the both of them remain on their best behavior."

"Of course. Best behavior."


	2. Chapter 2

"-This- is behaving?"

"Uh… yes?"

"Imoen, you set the man ON FIRE!"

"But I didn't use magic to do it! That counts for something, right?"

"How? Why?" There were more words after that initial outburst, but the pitch of Nalia's voice had ascended into a range that only bats and other creatures with similarly structured ears could pick up.

Anomen ducked as Nalia engaged in a particularly emphatic bit of gesturing, and one of her hands went flailing in his direction. "I suppose it would be too much to ask why you had to immolate him at all?"

"He was threatening to have the two of us incarcerated for something or other," Enara said with a shrug. "I don't know. Failure to adequately discharge our obligations as landholders or stewards of said lands or… I wasn't really paying attention. He had guys with swords with him."

Imoen piped up. "And Cowlies. You know how I feel about Cowlies."

"And instead of handling the situation diplomatically, you decided to cause some sort of… hullabaloo…"

Enara raised an eyebrow. "Hullabaloo?"

Anomen shrugged. "The ridiculousness of the situation warrants a silly word."

She cracked a tiny smile. "Gotcha."

"Could you maybe stop being so cavalier about all of this? You accosted a government official. That sort of behavior has repercussions!"

"Repercussions which I'm sure you can smooth over. Because you're good at that sort of thing. It's what they taught you in all those finishing schools, right?" Enara tried for a grin, but Nalia wasn't having any of it. Despite having stared down some of the vilest horrors the Hells could spit up, Enara just couldn't hold the mage's gaze. She flinched. "Um. Ok, then. Never mind."

"You're lucky there isn't a warrant out for your arrest right now. I mean, not that… not that anyone would be stupid enough to actually try and enforce one, but it's the principle of the thing!"

"No, I get that," Enara said with a sigh. "We can't exactly go around defying law enforcement organizations all across Faerun."

"As much as some of them deserve it," Imoen grumbled beside her.

"As much as some of them deserve it." Enara said with a nod.

"Ok. Ok, ok, ok. Here's what we'll do. I… I'll head back to the Government District and… try to smooth things over. It won't be easy – people in charge don't like having their fancy robes doused in lamp oil and set ablaze, but I might be able to calm him down. But in the meantime, no more burning people with fire! Understand?"

Imoen raised a hand. "Um-"

Enara helpfully lowered it for her. "She didn't say it, but I'm pretty sure she also means 'No burning people with acid, either, Immy."

"Nutbunnies. So not fair. It's not like I hurt the guy. I just… I just singed his bum a little. He totally had it coming."

"NO MORE BURNING PEOPLE."

"Ok! Geez."

"And while you're busy NOT BURNING PEOPLE, it might be a good idea to see about finding some extra hands for when we have to go retake the keep."

"I thought you were handling that with words so we wouldn't have to handle it with weapons?"

Nalia sighed again and took a long pull from her mug of ale. She winced in disgust at it, shrugged, then drained the rest of the swill before signaling the nearby waitress for another round. "From the looks of things, it looks like the vote's going to go my way, but a vote won't help us much if the keep's already in someone else's hands. Like an invading army is going to just pick up and go home because of some silly vote. No. If they get a foothold, we're going to have to oust them ourselves."

"Funny. I seem to remember playing this game once before."

"Yes. Yes, I know."

"Ok, then. Well, we might still have a few friends in the city we can look up. You go play nice with the bluebloods."

"Sounds like a plan. And-"

"Yes, yes. No burning of any kind this time. You have my absolute word on that. Even if I have to tie her wrists up myself."

* * *

><p>"You said no more burning!"<p>

"I did."

"You said you'd tie her wrists up yourself!"

"I did!"

"Then what happened?"

"I should have gagged her."

"What?"

"Well, she… she suckered some poor slob into cutting her hands free. And then she managed to slip away from me, and then… next thing I know, half the Promenade is yelling 'Fire! Fire!'"

"My head. Hurts. So much."

"It was one of the guys from that group that bothered us before. He deserved what he got, too. And again, no real harm done, just his pride. And I'm sure even that'll recover. Eventually. When people forget that he had to rip off his breeches in broad daylight, in public, and toss them into a fountain because they were on fire." Imoen snickered.

"Are we -sure- the Solar took all the Murderspawn essence out of her?"

"I was, but now I'm starting to wonder if maybe she missed a little. But, at least I have some good news."

"Oh, good news. Yes, please. I could use some of that."

"Valygar's coming with us to check out the situation at the keep."

"Valygar hates me."

"No, he d- yes, he hates you."

Nalia thumped her forehead into the heel of her palm.

"Ok, I'm exaggerating a little. He's warmed a little to the whole magic thing, but he still thinks you're… dangerous."

"You are!" Imoen helpfully and cheerfully chimed in.

"You're one to talk, Pinkie Pie! Who's the one who's been randomly immolating people, again?"

"Yes, but I'm cute, and thus forgiven. Also, it wasn't random, I had perfectly good reasons for turning those folks into human torches."

Nalia clenched her hands into tight fists. "Can I-"

"No. No hitting. That just encourages her. Look. Point is, Valygar's wary of you, but… he trusts you. To a point. And he's willing to help. It took a lot of fast talking and… well… Immy being Immy to convince him."

"You mean she stood there and went 'Please? Please? Please? Please? Please? Please? Please? Please? Please? Please? Please?' until he said yes?"

Enara snapped her fingers. "Pretty much."

"Uh huh. Well, I'll take all the help I can get at this point. I don't suppose he's rescinded that vow of poverty he took?"

"Er. No. Still got the title, and the lands, but just the one servant. You know, the butler?"

Imoen snickered. "'Butler' is such a funny word. It has 'butt' in it."

Enara patently ignored her. "So… no army of retainers. But… you know, it's Valygar. He's handy in a fight."

"True. I'll give him that."

"So relax. If it comes to fisticuffs and bloodshed, and you're not even sure it will, we'll… be slightly less unprepared than we might otherwise be. I guess."

"Doomed. We are so doomed."


	3. Chapter 3

"What did I tell you? Doomed. I called it. Doomed."

"That was pretty much your own fault for letting Imoen near the catapults."

Nalia and Valygar didn't get along very well. He didn't trust her because she was a mage, and he had… deep seated issues with magic. She, on the other hand, just didn't like how he somehow managed to get his voice to sound both smug and gravelly at the same time.

"No offense intended, Enara, but I'm actually starting to wonder if maybe we shouldn't just… put a lead on her."

"She's my sister, Nalia. Not somebody's pet Corgi. You can't just leash her up."

The bridge of Imoen's nose crinkled cutely as she put everything she had into an angry little pout. "You guys are NO FUN."

Nalia whirled on her and stabbed an accusatory finger into the smaller woman's chest. "There's a giant HOLE IN MY WALL."

"Which is a good thing! Now we can just walk right in instead of sneaking in the back!" She beamed at the rest of the group, seemingly oblivious to the stares of withering death they were unleashing in her direction, then shrugged her pack off her shoulders, set it down and reached inside. A juicy red apple appeared in her hand and she bit into it with gusto, messily wiping her chin with the back of her hand as she ate.

Nalia stared at her, her own mouth agape. "What… what are you -doing?-"

"Breakfast!" Imoen replied, her mouth full.

"You just had it!"

"First breakfast. This is second."

Lightning quick, she reached out and snatched the apple away then strode through the giant hole in the keep wall that Imoen's little misstep with the catapult had opened up. The sounds of contented crunching echoed from the darkened gap.

The redhead pouted. "She stole my apple."

Nalia's voice rang out clearly from the darkness. "And it was delicious!"

* * *

><p>The corridors leading to the main hall of the keep had been just as Enara had remembered them being the first time she'd ever set foot in the place: thoroughly ransacked – only this time by soldiers looking for loot instead of by an invading army of trolls. The effect, though, was pretty much the same. Mercenary thugs, however, tended to be easier to cow – especially the kind that would work for scum like the Roenalls.<p>

"This is your one and only chance to reconsider, boys. Are you sure you want to do this? Do you know who I am?" She had her arms folded across her chest, making no moves towards the swords belted at her hips despite the host of drawn weapons facing her from the other end of the room.

"C'mon… there's only five of 'em," said one of the soldiers to what looked to be the unit's leader. "And that one in back looks kinda scrawny."

"Hey!"

Enara threw a little "Shush." backwards over her shoulder.

The leader of the bunch, a tall, burly, scraggly-beareded man wearing heavy chain mail and carrying a wicked looking warhammer, looked hesitant. He scratched at his chin. "Maybe, but… but the one with the swords… I mean… I've 'eard things, you know. They say… they say she's killed dragons. Like… not just one, but a bunch. And that she uses their skulls for wine goblets."

"How would that even work? The wine would just flow right out of the eye holes."

"Imoen, shush!"

Enara turned back to the group of mercenaries which was about a dozen strong. A few looked to be eager for a fight, but most were already starting to waver, the points of their weapons drooping towards the ground. She twisted the knife. "Gentlemen, I'm in a rush. Could you make up your minds? Quickly, now, if you please. You wouldn't want me to decide that it'd be faster to just slaughter the lot of you like a herd of helpless cattle instead of waiting for your answers, now would you?"

The mercenaries' second in command angrily waved his sword at her in response. "Bah! The Hells with you! I've had enough of your talk! Maybe we'll just cut your tongue out and see how you like that, eh?"

Enara raised an eyebrow at him, clearly not rattled in the least by his threat. "Hell? Lemme tell you something about Hell." Her mouth quirked into a cruel smile. "I've been there. And you know why Hell is scary? It's not the pain. It's not the torture. It's not burning in a lake of fire. It's that it lasts forever. Just. Like. Me." And now she did reach down and draw one of her blades. It burst into flame as she slid it from its scabbard, though the fire never seemed to touch her skin. "So let me be the first to tell you: welcome to Hell, boys. Welcome to Hell."

* * *

><p>Nalia was in the lead, a little sphere of soft yellow light bobbing over her left shoulder and dispelling the shadows lining the corridors ahead of them as they continued walking towards the main hall. "You don't think you overdid it on the theatrics just a little?"<p>

Enara chuckled. "They left, didn't they?"

"Yeah, ok. I'll take what I can get." She paused in front of a set of wide double-doors. On the other side was the castle's main room: its audience chamber and banquet hall all rolled into one. According to the group of mercenaries they'd just sent packing, the overall leader of their force was using it as his command post, which meant that the first step in retaking the keep was retaking this room. "Everyone ready? These won't be common thugs. I doubt they'll go quietly."

"I would worry more for the servants who'll have to clean all the mercenary blood out of the carpets when this business is finished."

Everyone turned to stare at Anomen.

"Everyone else was being boastful. I was feeling left out."

A small grin crossed Enara's features and she leaned over to kiss her husband briefly, if affectionately on the cheek. "The usual plan?"

He nodded. "Attack down the middle. Valygar and your sister support us from the sides, and the Lady Nalia sweeps up whatever we miss."

"You forgot the most important part."

He smirked. "Don't get stabbed. I felt we all knew that already."

Imoen snickered. "It's worth repeating, Shinybritches."

"-Sir- Shinybritches, if you please."

"My apologies."

The knight gently brushed past Nalia and took hold of one of the door handles. Across from him, Enara grabbed the other. He nodded at her. "On three?"

She grinned. "Three."

* * *

><p>There was smoke, soot and ash everywhere – so thick it was hard for them to see their own hands in front of their faces, hard to even catch a breath.<p>

But it wasn't all bad news. The mercenary leader and his most trusted cohorts were… dead.

Enara nudged a pile of blackened bones and charred clothing with the toe of her boot. She winced. Yep. Most definitely dead. Coughing and fighting for a clean breath, she staggered towards a pile of collapsed brick and mortar. A wall had stood there once, but now it opened up directly into the courtyard. This was actually part of the good news, though: A lot of the smoke was venting out through the newly formed "exit," and allowing relatively fresh air to come in.

"I take… no responsibility for what just happened," she said, wiping a foul-tasting sooty mess from the corner of her mouth before reaching back and helping a bedraggled Nalia ease herself down onto the pile of rocks.

"She blew up the audience chamber!" the mage groused, the tail end of her complaint trailing into a hacking cough.

Nearby, Valygar slumped against a patch of wall that was still standing and took a deep breath of clear air before pulling his waterskin from his belt and taking a long drink. He smirked. " 'Let them have it, Imoen.' Your exact words, I believe."

"I was expecting her to roast our enemies, not… whatever it was she just did."

With practiced nonchalance, Imoen brushed a little bit of soot off her sleeve. Out of the lot of them, she (Nalia noted to her annoyance,) looked the least disheveled. "You assumed. See what that gets you? Anyway, since you're curious: _Dragon's Breath_ spell."

Nalia's eyes went wide. "Are you -insane?- You could've killed us all!"

"Oh, horse apples. You're just sore because of that hole in the wall. Look at it this way. Now you have an excuse to redecorate."

"I didn't -want- an excuse to redecorate."

Imoen sniffed. "Really? You needed one. The whole place needed to be about twenty percent cooler."


End file.
